Forced Friendship
by Myrrhmaid
Summary: SSHP PostDH, no epilogue. Snape is alive and he's a dark object. He & Harry are forced to be much closer than either would want. Harry takes his Auror test, & with Snape's help he goes on his first mission to meet some vampires. Horcruxes & pre-slash.
1. Ch 1  What am I?

A/N: This is post-book 7 (I'm ignoring the epilogue entirely) so if you haven't finished the series, don't read this.

If you notice any spelling errors or anything, please let me know. I ran a check but have virtually no faith in the site that I used to run it. I tried to curb my tendency to make paragraph-length sentences...

Anyway, I hope you like this. I couldn't stand what J.K. did to Snape, so this is my attempt to patch up his fate.

Edit: upon re-reading this... it seems a lot of my ideas for this story are just sorta... reworked ideas from my favorite fic... Reading this one right after that one makes this painfully apparent, though I'd had no idea I'd done it when I wrote this, so please read my favorite fic 'cause it's awesome. It's called The Price of Magic by Ac1d6urn and Sinick. Um... Credit to them for all the similar ideas that I must have subconsciously taken from them (such as the bit about trying to move the newspapers and being more real in his sleep).

**Chapter 1 - What Am I?**

Harry watched, horrified, as his hated professor fell to the ground, blood gushing out of four deep holes in his neck. Harry knew Snape had killed Dumbledore, and he thought he wanted to kill him in revenge, but something about seeing the man fall seemed to tear at his insides and he jumped from his hiding place and reached out to him. There was nothing he could do. He took the dying man's last thoughts in a beaker and watched helplessly as the life left his eyes.

As he felt the last of his life leaving him, Severus Snape inhaled one final breath and prepared for whatever lay beyond death, but as the seconds ticked by, he realized that it wasn't going to come, or perhaps that this was it. He realized he had closed his eyes in anticipation. On opening them, he was surprised to find that his surroundings had changed. As if he'd gone blind, or had forgotten how to work his eyelids, everything around him was an impenetrable blackness. He tried to feel around him but found that either there was nothing, or he couldn't feel. It was hard to tell which, really. After a moment of undeterminable length, he realized voices were talking somewhere nearby. He tried to call out but couldn't... Then he heard a bit of what the voices were saying.

"Harry look. It's your mum."

"... Looks like the missing bit from Sirius' room," came a hoarse reply.

"Why'd that old git have it?"

At first when he heard this, he spun around wildly looking for Lily and the source of the voices. Those voices that had so irked him for the past 7 years. After a moment, though, he realized that the voices were directed to him, or at him. Confused beyond the point of being able to guess what was happening to him, he sat there, or maybe he was standing, trying to hear what was going on around him, but the voices had become muffled and distant as if being heard through a heavy fog. He momentarily had the impression that he was floating or soaring through the air, and then the darkness, if possible, became darker, heavier, and the sounds around him were muffled completely.

After putting the little scrap of photo into the bag around his neck, and with one last pitying glance to the dead man on the floor, Harry nodded to Ron and Hermione, and they raced off towards Hogwarts Castle, where Harry proceeded to the headmaster's office at once to see Snape's last thoughts.

--

Several days after the fall of Voldemort, though it could have been years to the imprisoned ex-Potions Master in the silent infinite blackness, there was suddenly a scraping noise that, to someone who had sat in silence for days, sounded like a building was collapsing above him, though it may have been no louder than rustling leaves.

Harry leaned back in a chair in the small room that was his new temporary residence, reflecting on all that had happened recently. He inevitably thought back to all the people who had lost their lives in the last battle of the war with Voldemort, and to his parents. He dug around in the bag hanging from his neck until he managed to extract the little scrap of photo. Looking at it absently, he couldn't help thinking back to a small stone on a ring that had been dropped in the forest. If only there was some way he could bring her back... bring all of them back...

And then suddenly he felt another presence in the room, and as he looked up he found himself staring face to face with someone who hadn't been there a moment before. Having had so much experience with a certain dark wizard suddenly popping out of objects, he instinctively jumped up from the chair he'd been reclining in and grabbed his wand, looking around frantically for the sword of Gryffindor, before his eyes focused on the transparent shape in front of him and he recognized his old Potions professor.

"You... why... how...?" Harry stared, bewildered, as Severus Snape crouched and shielded himself from the brightness as if the sun would turn him to stone. He looked around, squinting in the light, despite the fact that it was twilight out and getting quite dark by normal standards. He looked terrible, not to mention the fact that he was somewhat transparent, but he was really there standing in front of Harry with a confused expression on his face. Snape looked down at his hands, surprised to see that they were there, though they were somewhat not there as well... He gave himself a mental checkup and decided he didn't seem to be a ghost, though he seemed able to go through walls, and not able to touch anything. He looked questioningly at Harry, who shrugged back at him, wide-eyed.

Though he didn't know quite what was going on, Harry was intensely relieved to see his old Potions Master materialized in his room. His death had bothered Harry even when he'd thought them mortal enemies, and once Harry had found that they were, in fact, on the same side after all, the man's death had frankly haunted him. Of all the friends he'd lost during the last encounter with Voldemort, this death, somehow, had been the worst for him. He supposed it was because he had seen it first hand, and it had been that wretched snake of all things... And such an unfair death... He shook himself out of his thoughts, and just looked at his old professor, wondering what was to happen next.

"What am I?" Snape asked questioningly.

"...horcrux," was all Harry was able to say.

He didn't know how he knew it, but he knew that it was right. Thinking about it afterwards, it did seem to fit. Somehow, Professor Snape had made a horcrux out of the scrap of Lily's photo, it seemed. Harry was sure he had done it unknowingly, by accident, just as Voldemort had accidentally made a horcrux out of Harry. How, though, could a complete, stable soul just accidentally split apart? That part he couldn't quite understand, but then a scene from in the pensieve flashed before Harry's mind, of Snape slumped in a chair, haggard and worn, and howling like a wounded animal. He supposed that had done it. Hearing of Lily's death must have torn Snape's soul in two. For a pain to be that intense that your soul would break... Harry looked at Professor Snape in morbid awe, realizing that his own lifetime of suffering could not compare to what this man had been through -had put himself through.

Snape seemed to be coming to similar conclusions, because he shrugged in shocked understanding. Realizing that he would be unable to live, yet unable to die, he gave an involuntary shudder. There were only two ways out from here. He imagined he could possess someone and take over their body, stooping to Voldemort's level, condemning himself to hell for all eternity (though he supposed he was going there anyway), or he could ask Harry to destroy the horcrux. The first was unthinkable. He may have loved Dark Magic, but he loved it for the magic itself, not for the harm it did to people when used against them. The latter sounded like a possibility, though the boy no longer had his sword, and Snape couldn't bring himself to let harm come to the scrap of photo. That photo had been his anchor, keeping him focused and enabling him to do what needed to be done after Dumbledore was no longer there to guide him. He supposed that was how he'd managed to leave half his soul behind in the thing.

Of all the places to have ended up, though, he had to have appeared in front of the Potter boy! Little did he know that it was his excellent fortune that he had ended up here. Only a close emotional bond with a horcrux object can allow the soul to take shape and emerge from the object. He and Harry Potter both had strong feelings for Lily, though they were of a very different nature, and both wished wholeheartedly that she was alive. Those feelings coursing through Harry as he looked at his mother's photo must have been what allowed the professor to emerge from his dark prison. Somehow he knew or felt this to be the case, though, despite not knowing a whole lot about horcruxes, and he resolved to not piss the boy off past his limit, for fear of being stuck in that dark prison for all eternity.

The apparition was feeling distinctly overwhelmed with the host of odd circumstances that allowed him to be still... well, not living, but not dead. His head was feeling uncharacteristically dense, like his thoughts were swirling through something thick before making it to their destination. He looked to the boy hoping he would, on the other hand, be feeling uncharacteristically bright.

"So. What happens now?" was all he could think to ask.

"I... I don't know. But I don't think I can take you out in public. You are a Dark Object now. I think that-"

"So I am to remain in that photo until you need help brewing a potion?" Snape hissed, his voice like ice. Despite his transparency and current inability to affect objects of this world, he was still quite intimidating. Harry was, of course, used to this treatment from the man, and just shrugged and shook his head.

"Not at all. But I think I will be the only company you'll get, until we can think of a way to get you out of there," he gave a sideways glance at the dangerous professor, "unless you'd prefer to stay in there than come talk to me."

Snape scowled at him and growled out, "As much as I'd like to avoid your company, if I remain in that black oblivion I will lose my mind before you ever think of a way to get me out of that thing. For that matter, your focus and attention is abysmally lacking, and if I don't keep you on it, I'll likely be in there forever. Be assured that I will haunt you until you find a solution to this problem."

Harry just looked at the man before him, biting his lip to avoid laughing at the absurdity of it all. He was being threatened by little more than a ghost, and one that had recently shown him his deepest guarded thoughts, at that. Somehow, Harry had thought that Snape would act differently towards him, after he had shared such thoughts with Harry in the pensieve. He found, however, that the return of some of Snape's sarcastic and sneering attitude was actually a relief to him. He felt like part of what had been lost during Voldemort's last attack was returning to him in stages.

"I don't suppose I can offer you a drink or something?" Harry asked, not really knowing if horcruxes could drink, though thinking probably not as he couldn't pick up a glass. Just then, however, his door opened and a beaming boy with light shining hair came bounding into the room. Snape instantly melted into a wall. The boy looked a couple years younger than Harry, and was carrying a plate of food and a glass of butterbeer, which he set on the dresser.

"Room service," the boy announced happily. Harry hadn't ordered any room service. He stood there beaming at Harry, who shrugged at him wearily.

"Thanks," Harry said, hoping the boy would leave, but he just stood there beaming at him. Oh fine, Harry thought. He gave the boy a quick hug and the boy bowed and skipped out of the room.

Harry sat down heavily on his bed and shook his head, muttering "Fanboys..."

Snape reappeared from the wall he had sunk into with an odd smirk on his face. Harry supposed he'd found that encounter highly interesting, adding fuel for future sarcastic and biting remarks. He found that he didn't really care all that much. Snape was on his side. He didn't have to sit through potions classes any more. Nothing he could say would get to him. He ate his food quickly, realizing that he had actually been quite hungry. The shock of the evening had sapped his energy and he found he was also immensely tired. He fell asleep almost immediately.

Severus Snape sat there watching Harry sleep for a time, still with an odd expression on his face. There was no way he'd go back in that photo before he was forced to. He was trying to think of good ways to mock Harry for having fan _boys_, but couldn't think of anything that was appropriate. He had to be careful not to piss the boy off too much or he'd never get out of the photo. He had to find his limit. He was still trying to think of something, not really knowing how far was too far, when he started to drift off to sleep himself. He noticed with some amusement as he was nodding off, that sleeping horcruxes float.

--

Harry woke the next morning and stretched out, enjoying the feel of the morning sun on his face. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, and was startled to find Severus Snape's foot floating about 10 inches above and to his left. The floating, sleeping figure seemed more solid than the day before, and was being blown around, as if weightless, by a nonexistent wind. His head bumped repeatedly into the wall as the wind caused him to drift this way and that. Harry was strongly reminded of the unfelt whispering wind behind the veil in the Department of Mysteries.

He was used to strange and seemingly unexplainable things happening around him, so he just shrugged at this floating, drifting effect, but he was rather curious about the fact that the man's head kept bumping into a wall that should have been quite insubstantial to him. Harry decided to try an experiment. Picking up his pillow, Harry chucked it at Snape's head. It should have fallen through harmlessly, and it sank about an inch into the man as if it were going to do just that, but then seemed to change it's mind and struck him, sticking for a moment partway through him. Snape's eyes popped open, and the pillow fell through immediately to the floor. Interesting...

Snape glared dangerously at Harry for the rest of the morning. Harry had explained, of course, and although Snape's eyes had flashed with something that looked like curiosity, he quickly covered that up with his customary glare of hatred. They resorted to ignoring each other's presence. At exactly 10 AM there was a knock at the door. Another young man, this time with long black hair, entered the room, mumbled "room service", and set a tray of food and some tea down on the dresser. He was glancing up at Harry with his head down, long hair hiding half his face, which was bright red. He gave an awkward bow and scurried out of the room.

Snape raised his eyebrows. He hadn't hidden this time, but the boy hadn't even noticed his presence anyway. Despite his strong dislike for everything Harry, he couldn't help but be a little curious about what was going on, since he didn't have potions or books to distract himself with.

Harry gave a long sigh and plopped down on his bed. Looking at him more closely, he realized Harry couldn't have been sleeping well, or doing well in general for that matter. He had dark shadows under his eyes and looked as if he had been not really living, but just going through the motions for quite some time.

Harry noticed him looking and pointed at a couple of unrolled Daily Prophets on the desk. The first was dated the day after the painful event with the snake. The other was the day after that. Snape suddenly became aware that he hadn't so much as asked what had happened with Lord Voldemort, and that, now that he thought about it, he was rather surprised that Harry was alive. He looked at the newspaper where it lay on the desk, hoping to get his answer from it and avoid having another conversation with his hated rival's currently gloomy son.

The heading on the first newspaper was written in bold text that changed colors and had fireworks continually going off behind it. It read "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Is Dead At Last!" The header was so large there wasn't much room for anything else on the page, but it did mention that there were many casualties, and that Harry had been seen among the mourners. Nothing about how Voldemort had died or who had done it could be found anywhere.

He was, of course, incapable of turning pages, so he looked over to the next newspaper. It had a large picture of Harry on it looking miserable and defeated. Many caskets lay before him. The one on which he was leaning bore the name "Severus Snape". The headline on this one read "Harry Potter's Shocking Secret" The article went something like this:

Recent tragic events have brought to light  
a dark secret about the one and only boy who  
lived. Huddled around the caskets of the  
unfortunate victims of the last battle with  
You-Know-Who, friends and family mourned  
together in solemn silence. One boy stood  
apart from the rest. The only mourner and  
possibly only one who noticed the death of  
Headmaster Severus Snape. The boy had, only  
a year previously, accused the man of  
murdering previous headmaster, Albus Dumbledore  
in cold blood. Now, when asked, his only  
response is a tear-filled shake of the head  
and a whispered admission "he's innocent."  
Onlookers glance in his direction and point,  
whispering behind their hands, undoubtedly  
questioning the sexuality of their boy hero. It  
appears that the Boy Who Lived had been able  
to cope with the deaths of some close friends  
but not of this man who he, if eyewitnesses  
count for anything, hated. What does this  
mean? Could the Boy Who Lived have been  
harboring a secret scandalous crush for  
one of his professors? Find out what people  
are saying on page 5.

"The first page is not so bad," the boy muttered, "It's in the quotes that she really embellishes. For once no one seems to be listening to her, though. The only people who seem to believe her are those who wanted it to be true in the first place. Those are the people who keep appearing around me, following me everywhere, giving me things. Telling them off is exhausting. They all look so hopeful."

There was a long silence and then he seemed to feel he should go on, "I just... felt so bad... It's true I had wanted you dead when I thought you were a murderer, but even then I wouldn't want what I thought... eternal torture is harsh even for Voldemort, and you hadn't really been that bad in the first place and... it just got to me, that's all. And that horrid Skeeter-woman went reading things that weren't there..." he plopped down on his bed and closed his eyes, draping an arm over his face to block the sunlight.

"Eternal torture? I have never feared death, Potter, what are you talking about?"

"Well, I imagined you would be just sitting there watching my parents snogging every day for the rest of eternity. Your life's been shit, you ought to be able to rest in peace at least."

What little color Snape's face had drained from it. He hadn't thought of that. He silently thanked... whoever... for having thus-far escaped that fate. Eyeing Harry's untouched food, a flash of worry crossed his face. Then it was gone, and no one had noticed. He glared at the boy lying listlessly on the bed and spat out "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. You don't have the guts to even leave this room and face them, do you?"

Harry glared at him from under his arm. His eyes looked somehow dead. "I don't feel great, okay. No thanks to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it." Harry rolled over and slept the rest of the day.

Having nothing better to do, Snape tried again and again to pick up the newspapers. He remembered that he could touch things in his sleep, and tried to put himself in a very relaxed state, though this was not something that came natural to him, and he highly doubted that he was ever in a relaxed state, even in sleep. After several unsuccessful attempts, he put his head down on the desk. It sort of floated over the desktop, but as he started to drift to sleep, it sunk down and rested on the desk's surface. He tried to hold that semi-awake state for as long as he could, but as he started to feel himself waking up and floating up again, he gave up and let himself sleep. Locked up in that room with the boy was barely better than being stuck in the photo, he thought bitterly.

The next day there was no longer any doubt that Harry was unwell. He looked gray and sickly, like something that had been found floating dead in a river. He stared up, unseeing, at the ceiling. Although he couldn't stand the boy, Snape didn't want to watch him die. Not to mention the fact that he would have no chance of leaving the photo without Harry. Also, if he were the type that could feel emotions, he would have been touched that Harry had cared about his death.

There was nothing for it. He'd have to carry the boy... somewhere. He thought if he had access to his old dungeon he may be able to do something... Or better yet, access to the school nurse. He was sure it would be safe for him to show up there. He was never exactly liked by the staff but Harry had been published in the newspaper stating his innocence, so he likely would be able to manage it. ...If he were able to pick the boy up, that is.

He tried his best to get into the same half-sleep state he had been in the day before. By mid-afternoon, after many failed attempts, he scooped the boy up into his arms. He stared, a bit shocked, but it seemed to have worked. Now he had to concentrate on not dropping him. It occurred to him then, that he didn't even know where they were. He looked down to ask, but Harry's eyes had rolled up in his head. Thinking fast, he grabbed Harry's invisibility cloak. He threw it over them both and walked out as quickly as he dared, while keeping a fair amount of concentration on remaining solid. He didn't dare risk apparating, and didn't expect that he'd be able to as a ... whatever he was, anyway.

Thinking of no other options, he tried holding out Harry's wand. The Knight Bus appeared with a crack. Snape slipped onto the bus without a sound, carrying Harry to the seat right behind the driver. Ern' was the only employee on the bus these days, and he looked around for a witch or wizard hoping to get on the bus, but when he didn't see any, he just shrugged and started again on his way. After they had been driving for a few moments, Snape said "Stop at Hogwarts."

Ern' looked in his back mirror and didn't see anyone where he had heard the voice, but there were alot of people on the bus. He assumed he just hadn't looked up quickly enough. After about a half an hour the bus stopped at Hogwarts' front gate. The door slid open and Snape sneaked out, leaving Ern' rather confused, but Ern' wasn't terribly bright, so he just shrugged it off as something he didn't understand, and drove on.

Snape stalked up to the school with long strides. Harry's invisibility cloak billowed out behind him like his own cloak usually did, causing his semi-transparent legs to stick out of the cloak every time he took a step forward. It was dusk by now and the sky was dark gray and ominous. A cold wind was blowing up the corridors through the school. Castles never were the warmest of places. He arrived at the hospital wing without incident, and took off the invisibility cloak. He put Harry on a hospital bed and suddenly realized that he wouldn't have been able to carry him a moment longer. He supposed he'd only been able to carry him because he was too distracted to notice how difficult it was.

He looked around the office but the nurse was nowhere in sight. Thinking he might be able to do some good himself, Snape tried to pick up a towel and found that he absolutely couldn't. He tried to go collect one of the other teachers but found that he couldn't do that either. Every time he tried to walk away from Harry, he could get only about 15 feet before getting sucked back into the photo. It was, after all, only Harry's similar feelings towards the scrap of photo that allowed him to come out at all.

Looking at his predicament, he came across a painting with a dumpy looking knight sleeping in it. He thought the knight was from one of the paintings in the hallway below the divination tower, but he couldn't be sure. He hadn't been in that part of the castle since he had been a student. Snape scowled at the painting and gathered just enough concentration and... whatever it was... to nudge the painting.

Sir Cadogan the knight woke up with a clanking and screeching of rusted metal. "Who goes there?!" the knight asked, trying to push himself up with his sword, which sunk into the grass.

"Listen," Snape started, "this is urgent and very important. I need you to go get Dumbledore from the wall in the headmaster's office. Wake him up if you have to. Just get him here now."

"A quest? A quest!" the knight saluted and ran off, clanking and rattling all the way.

Fifteen minutes later, Dumbledore appeared in the painting in the hall, to find the ex-Professor Snape pacing nervously up and down the hall. Despite the fact that he was a painting, he hadn't lost any of his ability to guess or somehow know everything that was going on in his school. Moments later, wrapping a bathrobe around her nightgown, Minerva Mcgonnagal appeared, followed closely by Madam Pomfrey. They both gasped and clutched their chests as if they were having heart attacks from shock at seeing Snape back amongst them.

"I believe you will find mister Potter in need of assistance behind those doors, if you don't mind." Dumbledore-portrait motioned to the door across the hallway, and the two women rushed in.

"It's great to see you, Severus. Come. Sit. We need to talk." Dumbledore waved his wand and a painted table and set of chairs appeared on the painted grassy field.

Severus blinked at the painting, and reached a hand out to it. The next thing he knew he was standing in front of the painted table, which suddenly looked very real. The world across the hall, on the other hand, had taken on a serene brushed sort of look. He sat down at the table and told Dumbledore all that he knew about what had happened since he came out of the photo. Dumbledore nodded, with his fingers pressed together in thought in front of him. He was watching Severus with an amused glint in his eye. When he was done with the story, Dumbledore chuckled at him.

"You know, you're stuck with him. You've avoided a miserable afterlife, for now, as Mr. Potter has pointed out to you, but you are unable to keep your distance from him, as would have been best for you both. I do hope you have learned to get along. If you still feel as you have in the past towards each other, forgive me but I wonder if you are truly better off than you would have been if..."

"Potter and I have not had a chance to kill each other yet. I do not doubt that it will happen, but so far we have... survived. Neither of us is particularly anxious to start up a conversation, so we have managed."

"So you ignore and avoid the only person you have been able to talk to? Considering that you can not do things on your own any more, I find that to be rather sad. It is all I can expect, though, I imagine."

"I can do things on my own, though. I carried the boy all the way here. My ability to interact with the real world is improving greatly by the hour, it seems."

"Ah, about that," Dumbledore said, looking worried, "you will need to stop eating Harry's soul at once, or the boy will surely die."

"I... what?"

"I trust you remember the time Ms. Ginny Weasley almost died in the Chamber of Secrets at the hands of Tom Riddle's diary?"

Snape nodded slowly.

"You are doing the same thing to Harry that Riddle was doing to Ms. Weasley." He smiled as he saw the horrified disgust in Snape's eyes, something that only someone who knew him very well would recognize, and added "Maybe not intentionally, but you are still doing it. For now, I think it best that you retreat to your photo and allow Harry time to recouperate."

Without another word, Snape turned and vanished. He'd protected Lily's son on her behalf for so long, he certainly wasn't going to be the one to kill him. Especially not now that he needed him in order to get out of the photo. If he was honest with himself, he might have noticed that he truly didn't mind the boy's company anymore. Harry really didn't remind him too much of James any more, despite their similar appearance. He was alot more like Lily. Dumbledore had been right about that one. He was never one to be in touch with his feelings, however, so this all went unnoticed by the very person who was thinking it. No wonder he had such a bad sense of time when he was in the photo-prison. He couldn't even remember what he'd been thinking for longer than about 3 minutes. It was just so dark. And quiet. and empty.

--

After about 2 days, Harry finally opened his eyes. He found that he was in the Hogwarts hospital wing. How did he get here? He looked around, suddenly fearful. What had happened to Snape? Had he been found? Had his horcrux been destroyed? As he wondered, he saw the scrap of photo glowing faintly on the bedside table, and Snape emerged from it moments later. Harry sighed in relief, then jumped in his bed as he saw the outline of a flowering vine glowing faintly green and twisting up from his wrist towards his elbow on his left arm.

"Ah. That. I believe Albus will be wanting to speak with you about that," Snape said icily. "He seems to think you need precautions against me." Glancing with slight surprise at the green thing snaking up Harry's arm, he added, "How very Slytherin."

Harry just stared, confused. He felt drawn to the thin glowing outline on his left arm. Presently, the flowers began to bloom. They were a deep burgundy red with golden stamen. Lilies. He touched one of the blooming flowers with his other hand and felt a hot flash in his arm and the fingers that had touched it, and then the glowing outline was gone, and his arm looked just as it always had. He looked up questioningly, but Snape had vanished.

Moments later, Madam Pomfrey came bustling in with an antiqued picture frame. By this time, Harry was very confused. He didn't have a clue how he'd gotten there, why he was there, what that thing on his arm was, or what to expect next. The picture frame was set on a chair next to his bed, and he recognized it as the painting that normally was occupied by Albus Dumbledore in the headmaster's office. He had seen it in Snape's memories. Moments later, Dumbledore appeared in it, and waved kindly at Harry, who was looking at him with confused surprise on his face.

"Hello, Harry. I do hope all is well"

"Yeah, well, it's ok I guess. How did I get here?"

"Severus brought you."

Harry's eyes went wide. "You... he... showed himself? That idiot. How did he manage to bring me? You're not going to ask me to destroy it, are you? I won't."

"Calm down, Harry, it's alright. Although I do suggest you keep what he actually is a secret from the general public. I believe that with some amount of practice, he will be able to take just enough of your energy to look solid, without actually being solid. Then he will be able to venture out in public with you. If he remains unable to interact physically with the real world, that should leave you with enough of yourself to not get sick again."

A sudden understanding dawned on the boy's face. "You're saying...he was... like with Ginny?" Harry had thought of the possibility, but had assumed he just didn't really know what was happening to himself.

"Yes, I'm afraid he was," sighed Dumbledore, "though he didn't know it or intend it. He has been told and will attempt to stop it from happening in the future, however, if he ever takes too much of you again, and you begin to feel weak or ill, I urge you to press your first two fingers against your left arm. That will recall your entire soul to your body. I think it will force him into the photo for a time, but will stop any more serious problems from occurring."

"Oh. What spell was that? That glowing vine thing?"

Dumbledore's painted eyes twinkled behind his painted glasses. "I see you must have already tested it out. Marvelous, it seems to have worked. A vine, hm? There was once an exceptional healer who had a son with multiple personalities. I am sure that you are familiar with that illness from the muggle world. In our world, it is a treatable problem, thanks to that healer. It never goes away, but life can go on, much like it can for werewolves. They must always deal with their problem, but it can be controlled. This healer came up with 2 spells. Quite ingenious if I do say so myself. One of the spells forced all but the dominant personality out of the affected person. When someone has multiple personalities, it is due to multiple underdeveloped souls taking up residence in one body. In effect, he devised a way to banish all but the main soul from the body. The main soul in someone with multiple personalities is also under-developed, however, so it can only handle being alone for a short time. This other spell, the one which I used on you, was devised to call the other souls back. While the other souls were away, or in your case, while part of the soul is being used, the arm would glow with a pattern and color that reflected the soul or souls of the individual affected. When the person would begin to feel weak, they would press their first two fingers of the opposite hand to the glowing mark, and the other souls would instantly be returned to them. It is quite lucky that it worked, as no one has actually developed a magic intended to allow someone to live with a horcrux. But Harry, you most certainly will be living with him, and close, for as long as you live and the horcrux survives. Are you willing to do that?"

Harry blinked, trying to take it all in. His soul was a flowering vine? Odd... Living with Snape wasn't his idea of a good time, but he had expected it, and even though the guy was still a greasy miserable old git, Harry couldn't help but feel a deep respect for him after having seen his true self in the pensieve.

"I don't like it, but I'll do it. For all the suffering I've been through, I think his is actually worse. We don't get along, but I can't hate him anymore. We won't kill each other. If I can lessen his misery by keeping him from a worse fate, I owe him that much. He's saved me so many times."

"I see," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Well then-"

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I was just thinking... Wondering if maybe... The ring of Gaunt... Do you think... if I used it on someone who was already in a state of half-life, would it bring him back the rest of the way, or would it have no effect?"

--

- To be continued -

Cliff hangerish, ne? I hope so. Anyway, let me know what you think. I have about this much more planned for this story, so I guess it will be 2 or 3 chapters by the time it's done.

I made a pic to go with this chapter, but it won't let me link it. I'm cattilee on DA and catti on cattileedotcom if interested.


	2. Ch 2  Occlumency for Imbeciles

**Chapter 2 - Occlumency for Imbeciles**

Dumbledore looked troubled by this. He fixed Harry with an intense stare. "I'll admit that I am not sure what would happen, but I urge you not to try, Harry. It would certainly not bring him back to life, as he still has the problem of not having a body of his own. He is only able to interract physically with this world when he steals some of your soul and lifeforce. He will remain a horcrux until he is either destroyed, or succeeds in sucking the life out of you entirely. I'm sorry." He added the last part after seeing Harry's face fall.

After a silent moment in which Harry tried, failingly, to come to terms with the fact that he was really stuck with the old git, Dumbledore spoke again. "So what will you do now, Harry?"

"Huh? Oh. I've been catching up on what I missed when I skipped 7th year, with Hermione's help, and I'm going to take the Auror exam the next time it's given, in about a week and a half."

"And what are your plans for Severus through all this?"

Harry got the impression he was being tested somehow, but he wasn't going to disrupt his own life to such a degree just for a... well, practically a ghost.

"He can come too. In my pocket or on my broom. I don't care which."

"I strongly suggest you leave the object at home when you go in for your test. Although Alastor Moody was the most... careful... among the aurors, you are likely to come within range of numerous dark detectors. Now that that's out of the way, I think you should get some sleep." He tipped his hat to Harry and left the portrait, leaving him to his thoughts.

After another day of rest, Harry was completely back to normal. He was getting used to the slight drain he felt when Snape was out of his picture, and Snape was getting used to not draining too much of Harry's soul, though he still was having trouble looking solid and real. Although physically they were doing better, they both found it more and more difficult to remain civil towards one another.

Snape was currently fuming because of a quidditch accident. Normally such a thing wouldn't have bothered the man in the least, but it meant that the hospital beds were needed for the injured students. Everyone had agreed that for the time being Harry and he should remain at Hogwarts where they were safe, until he mastered the art of looking like he wasn't just half a soul. With no hospital bed free for Harry, who really didn't need to remain in the hospital wing anyway, it had been mutually decided by the staff that he and Harry should stay in his old room in the dungeons. That would also keep him away from the main throng of the school, allowing them to avoid many unnecessary questions.

No one had touched his room since he had left it, as his door had been sealed with his own complex combination of wards. It was possible to undo the wards, but no one had bothered to waste time on it, since the room was in one of the coldest and most remote areas of the castle anyway. It was generally assumed that the inside of the room looked just like the hallway that led to it. Dark, stone, eerie, and cold. Had they known what it was like inside, maybe they would have been more apt to try to break into it.

Now, though, as he watched the boy looking around curiously, he really wished they had broken in and removed all his things. Since his talk with Dumbledore, Snape had been sleeping in the photo, allowing Harry a good night's rest, and stopping himself from unconsciously taking more than his share of Harry's soul. There was no way he could do that now, though, with the boy having free access to all of his belongings. He'd have to keep an eye on him.

The room was actually more like a little apartment. It had a front room with dark green and burgundy walls. There was a subtle floral pattern embossed on the wallpaper, that Harry recognized to be lilies. Two of the walls were lined with bookshelves, and there was only one chair, which sat alone in the exact center of the room. It was a testament to how rarely Snape had guests. There was a little wooden table to the left of the chair that was stacked high with books as well. Harry imagined what Hermione's place would look like if she were into some sort of gothic grunge style. There were no pictures on the remaining wall, but there was a huge fireplace in the center, made of roughly cut stone chunks, resembling the dungeon walls outside, though less worn. There was only half of a fourth wall, it jutted out to the middle of the room and then decided not to go on, leaving the back rooms exposed, though somewhat sheltered from the view afforded by the front door. He could see the room on the back right was a tiny kitchen, and only assumed that the part that was behind the half-wall was Snape's personal bedroom.

Harry wanted to explore. He couldn't help himself. He found he really couldn't dislike Snape all that much after all he'd learned about why the man was so bitter, and why he hated Harry for looking like James Potter. He also found it easier to not hate him because Snape seemed to have decided it was in poor taste to continue taunting Harry about his parents, after what he'd been shown in the pensieve. Not hating and getting along were two very different things, however, and Harry found the latter to be immensely more difficult. The guy may have had good reason to be bitter and miserable, but it didn't change the fact that he was bitter and miserable, and liked to share the misery. Harry was eager to find something they had in common that he could use to get through to Snape with... or even something to talk about that they disagreed on; it would be better than having to live in such close proximity to someone who was ignoring him. Not that he wasn't used to being ignored; it made him feel too much like he was at the Dursley's.

Although Harry wanted to get on Snape's good side, he realized that the man was too mistrusting of him for Harry to ever get the chance to explore the place. He decided he would have to royally piss him off, in the interest of getting along. Although he could just banish Snape to his photo, he wanted to gain his trust, so he had to make Snape want to go back in the photo of his own accord.

He glanced back and found Snape seemingly lost in thought. Now's the time, he thought, and he walked back into the bedroom and made himself at home, flopping onto the bed with his shoes still on. He had to bite his tongue hard to avoid laughing as he realized Snape's bed was a round waterbed with green satin sheets. The similarities to a giant cauldron of some green potion were striking.

As expected, Snape came stalking into the room, eyes glinting dangerously, and said in his quietest, most deadly voice, "Get out."

"Make me."

"What did you say?"

"I said, if you don't want me here, make me leave. Let's see it. You supposedly carried me all the way to Hogwarts, I'm sure lifting me off a bed should be no problem for you."

"Is that a challenge, Mr. Potter?" he asked, getting onto the bed and scooping Harry up, preparing to throw him off.

Harry held out his left hand, and a line of glowing mist seemed to trail from Snape's body to Harry's palm. He fell through Snape's arms back onto the bed as the other man looked down at his own hands, which had become transparent again. He'd had the feeling that would work... This really was a useful magical mark on his arm...

Snape got a moment of satisfaction as the boy looked up at him and gave an involuntary shudder. He made a mental note that his current death-glare was a good one, but then shuddered himself to see that the boy had started laughing. "What on earth have you got to laugh about, boy? When I get out of this mess you will have precious little to laugh about when I'm through with you."

"That's just it, though. You're so determined to make sure I stay afraid of you, when there really isn't anything you can do to me in this state."

"Do you plan to keep me as a pet, Potter? I presume you will, at some point, find a way to be rid of me. At that time, do you think you will enjoy my neverending wrath?"

Harry tried to suppress a laugh. "If that's what I have to look forward to, maybe I should keep you as a pet."

That was what Snape was afraid of. He couldn't threaten the boy too much, or he would never get out of that cursed photo. He decided a new battle tactic was in order. If he couldn't move the intruder out of his bed, and threatening bodily harm caused the boy to want him to stay in this wretched form, he would have to find a way to make the boy genuinely not want to be there. Unfortunately, the only thing that came to mind put him in overly close proximity to the boy. He thought that, as long as he had a stronger will than the brat, which he was certain he did, then he would win out and have his place as much to himself as could be hoped for under the circumstances.

Unable to think of a better idea, he laid down in the bed beside his hated enemy. Thankfully it was a large bed, so he didn't have to get that close. He started a mental count of the number of seconds it took before the boy would jump up out of the bed, disgusted. Hopefully he wouldn't track too much mud all over the sheets in doing so. As the seconds ticked into minutes and then hours, he was becoming increasingly drowsy from all the counting. He glanced over and saw that Harry appeared to have fallen asleep without freaking out and letting Snape have his room back. Sighing in defeat, Snape rolled over away from him and fell asleep as well.

Harry cracked an eye open and saw that the old git had finally fallen asleep. He knew that he wasn't faking, because Snape was floating about 5 inches above the surface of the bed. Luckily, this made it easy for Harry to get off the wiggly waterbed without waking him up. Harry quietly made his way back to the main room where the fire was still flickering gently. He wondered if the house elves had been lighting that fire every night even when no one had been here.

He gazed around the room at the 5 large bookshelves, looking for... well he didn't really know what he was looking for. Something to bring him more understanding about the grump that he was forced to be so close to. Then something caught his eye by the left edge of the second shelf from the top on one of the corner bookshelves. It was a black book with a blood red shield on the cover. The shield had etchings on it that made it look rather like a brain. There was a shining silvery red text on the binding which read "Occlumency for Imbeciles" by Armenius Prince.

Harry just stared at it with his mouth hanging open for several moments. Snape had had a book... a book with very simple and direct explanations of how to do occlumency... and he'd never let Harry see it. Harry could imagine why. Not letting him see it would allow him to make Harry feel stupid for not getting it. He could sneer at him and tell him there was no set of rules to follow, that you just have to feel it and that it should be natural for anyone with half a brain. On the other hand, if he let Harry see the book, he'd probably catch on immediately, and to make matters worse he would have a glimpse into Snape's personal life, however small a glimpse. After all, he'd be reading a book from some relative.

Sitting down in the one chair in the room, which, to his surprise was very comfy, Harry opened the book and began to read. The book turned out to be very well-written and easy to follow, with graphic diagrams illustrating what you should be visualizing when forcing the intruder out of your mind. As it turned out, you weren't really supposed to empty your mind exactly at all. You were supposed to form one of five basic defenses, depending on which method worked best for you. On rare occasions a witch or wizard could invent their own unique method, but these five methods worked for most people. The mind-clearing method was not explained, and was only mentioned as a side note. It was explained to be the most difficult, though most effective method of occlumency ever documented, and was a method that could not be taught. Harry got the impression that being able to use this method of occlumency was some sort of a gift, like being born a Seer or something.

Well that explains why he couldn't improve at all, and why Snape was good enough that even Voldemort had no clue what was really going on. Harry read on and found that three of the methods made alot of sense to him. He could visualize what he was supposed to, although his mind wasn't at risk of being invaded at the moment. When he got to the center of the book he found a fold-out painting with a caption below that said it was the author of the book. The painting was giving him a searching look. Harry realized with a jolt that this painting was able to read minds, and was here as a practice sheet. He stared at the painted eyes and tried the first two methods without much success, but when he tried the third, he saw the eyes look down in defeat.

He laughed at how stupid it all was. He didn't need to clear his mind, he just had to cover up and obscure his thoughts. He waited until he felt the intruding mind select a thought, then he focused all his attention on clouds. The result was that the selected memory played through, but was unseeable, due to a thick fog and countless clouds filling all the spaces of his mind. The more clouds he imagined, the tighter the space in his mind got, until the intruder not only couldn't see what was going on, but couldn't fit in his mind at all. It had been... easy.

Harry put down the book and sighed, shocked at his sudden revelation of something that had been so difficult for him for years. Returning the book to the shelf, he snuck back into the bed, as far away from his ex-professor as possible. He didn't like it, but wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of knowing he had been made uncomfortable.

The next morning, however, they both wished he hadn't been so stubborn. Harry woke to a furious shouting about something or other. He opened his eyes to see what the fuss was about, and found himself nose-to-nose with a red-faced Snape. He untangled himself from the irate monster in front of him (who was quickly becoming incorporeal anyway), whom he had apparently wrapped his arms around in his sleep, and stumbled into the kitchen to find something to eat. Snape was still ranting something about Harry being disrespectful of people's space and perverted, impertinent, shameless, and... wait, perverted? As disturbing as it was, he was only hugging the guy, had he never received a hug before or what? Shaking his head, Harry ignored him as he ate a loaf of cornbread and had some juice that he'd found waiting for him on the table. He had to hand it to the house elves, they knew what they were doing.

Snape stormed in and looked at Harry expectantly, apparently waiting for an explanation. Harry shrugged at him and continued to eat.

"Sorry" he said in between mouthfuls of bread. "Couldn't help it. I wasn't awake." which should have been obvious, but then again, if it was, why were they having this argument?

Snape was so furious he couldn't think of anything biting enough to say. He spluttered for a moment and then turned and vanished.

_That was interesting_, Harry thought. It got the result he had been wanting, however, and he was going to make use of it. He had had an idea the night before, while reading the occlumency book, and thinking about how memories work and can be read like pages in a book.

He hastily finished his juice and headed out of the castle towards the Forbidden Forest, a flask and his wand in his pocket, and a school broom under his arm. It had been under a month since the event, but finding the place would be difficult. Finding the item would be even more difficult. Unfortunately, the anti-accio charms were still in effect.

After almost a full day of flying, he had narrowed it down to one of two clearings. As the last light was beginning to fade from between the treetops, he finally found it. Being a natural born seeker did come in handy at times. By the edge of the clearing he was currently searching, he saw a glint of gold shining from between some leaves, half buried in dirt.

Harry picked up the ring, rubbing the dirt off the resurrection stone. He spun it in his hand 3 times and watched his mother appear before him. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to say, but he knew he had to be careful. He couldn't say certain things, but had to get the important parts across.

"Mum, I... I wanted to tell you, Severus Snape has really done alot to protect me over the years I've been at Hogwarts. It's because of his respect for you, so, if you still harbor any grudges for him calling you a mudblood... well... he's partially crossed over, so... just... if you see him, tell him I said thanks."

She smiled a little sadly and nodded, but did not speak. Thinking about it he realized they never had spoken to him. The other time he had called them out, and when he had seen them in the mirror, they had always just smiled at him and nodded. He knew she understood, though, and that she would pass the message on.

He tossed the ring back to the ground and she faded into a thin mist and disappeared. Harry put his wand to his temple and brought out the memory he had just created. He put it into the flask that was already swirling with blue wispy memories, and replaced the cap. He then mounted the broom and zoomed off back to the school.

When he got back to their room, he found Snape was still refusing to come out of the photo. He wasn't sure if, in his current state, Snape would be able to take his memories back or not, and thought it even less likely that he could take them while in the photo, but he thought he didn't really have anything to lose. He put the scrap of photo in the flask and watched, happily surprised, as the memories disappeared one by one, drawn into the photo, and the mind that they had belonged to. Soon, only one memory remained. This one slightly out of place memory lingered for a few more moments, but then disappeared, as if it had decided that it was lacking in options and might as well follow the other memories into the photograph.

As soon as that last memory soaked into the photo, Harry took the scrap back out of the flask and put it on the kitchen table, sitting down to watch it as if it was some muggle science experiment.

Moments later, Snape was standing across from where he sat, giving him a searching look. "Why did you do that?"

"She had to know. It wasn't fair. Besides, it was my way of saying..."

"I didn't do those things for you. I thought even someone as dense as you would have understood that."

Harry shrugged, "That doesn't change the facts."

Their eyes met and Harry could feel Snape trying to read some alterior motive in his mind. He didn't have one, of course, but decided to block him out just to try out his new skill on someone other than the painted book insert.

Snape's eyes went wide. "Where did you learn that little trick?"

Harry shrugged, laughing, and just said, "nice library."

Just then an owl flew in from one of the high narrow windows and dropped a letter at Harry's feet before turning and flying off. It was from Hermione. The note was short, scrawled out on a piece of scratch paper. It read: "Heard you were at Hogwarts. It'll work out, we'll have access to all the 7th year books. I'll meet you there this afternoon. I couldn't get Ron to come. Tell me what I've missed. -Hermione"

--

- To be continued -

Don't worry, Snape won't always remain so helpless. Might take awhile though, and I can't say they won't always be a bit dependent on each other, but it will even out.


	3. Ch 3 I'll Show You

**Chapter 3 - I'll Show You**

Later that day, Harry found himself sitting in the school's library with Hermione, studying just like old times. He was very grateful for her help, without which he wouldn't even know which books to start in. He'd told her all about the photo and Snape, and the glowing mark on his arm before they entered the library. She had given him one of those pitying looks like he'd gone mad or something, until they got to the library and Snape popped out to go find a book to occupy himself with while they did their ridiculous studying. They studied hexes and potions and what to do when you're attacked by rampaging homicidal fungi. Seriously. Harry put down his book and looked out the window.

"It's funny, if you'd have told me 7 years ago that I would be sitting here reading how to reduce mutated monster fungi to crying tiny mushrooms, I would have said you were off your rocker. Maybe I'm mad after all."

Hermione nodded her agreement with a smile, but then put down her own book as well. "Harry, I just don't get it. Studying is always a good idea, but why do you have to study to become an auror? You killed You-Know-Who. What more proof do they need that you're qualified?"

"Hermione, I took down Voldemort with a disarming spell. That's hardly going to work twice. If you haven't noticed, the ministry is embarrassed about the whole thing. A kid took out their worst nightmare with expelliarmus. They haven't even let the Prophet post how he died, not to mention by whose hand, so they can't give me any special treatment."

Hermione looked defeated. All he'd said about the ministry was quite true, of course. They studied for a couple more hours, then Hermione had to go. She was going on a vacation with Ron and his family the next day. It was a ministry-sponsored trip, their way of saying thank you to the Weasleys for sacrificing so much for the war effort. Because of that trip, this was the last study session Harry would get before his auror test. Hermione gave him a hug and told him he'd do fine, and then made her way off toward the end of the apparating ward.

"I would dearly like to know how one defeats someone such as the Dark Lord with expelliarmus" came a voice from the corner of the room. Harry jumped slightly, having forgotten that Snape was, and would always be there, looming in the shadows close by.

"I'll let you watch if you'd like," Harry replied, as they headed back towards their dungeon.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table, and Snape stood across from him, looming over him, with Harry's wand in his hand. "Legillimens," he chanted, and the kitchen around them dissolved until they were standing in the entrance hall watching Bellatrix Lestrange and Molly Weasley face off.

They watched as Bellatrix fell in slow motion and a voice from out of nowhere shouted "Protego!" as Harry revealed himself and squared his shoulders to Voldemort. A round of cries and gasps of happy surprise went around the room as people realized that Harry was alright, then there was a tense, hushed silence as they all watched. Most of them looked like they didn't expect his happy surviving streak to last more than 2 seconds longer.

Harry was giving his speech about how Snape had really been a lovesick softy all along, and he felt simmering anger turn quite quickly to boiling rage in the Severus Snape that was watching it all.

_Uh oh,_ Harry thought. _I'd forgotten about that part._

They continued to watch until finally the talking had ended and the faceoff was truely on. They circled a bit, sizing each other up, and then at the exact same moment, they raised their wands and shouted their attacks. Voldemort's being "Avada Kedavra!" and Harry's being "EXPELLIARMUS!"

They watched as the Elder Wand shot up into the air and into Harry's hand, and Voldemort fell for the last time, struck dead by his own rebounding curse, just as he had been destroyed by his own rebound on his first encounter with Harry nearly 17 years ago.

Coming back to reality, Harry found himself face to face with a fuming Severus Snape. _Really, this guy gets angry so fast_, he thought to himself uncomfortably.

"I was under the impression, Mr. Potter, that Gryffindors had some sense of honor and wouldn't run around spilling other peoples' secrets to whole hordes of people the first chance they got. Apparently, that feature did not get transferred to you."

Although it wouldn't have normally been much of an insult, Snape knew Harry was trying to gain his trust. The expression he now fixed him with was murderous, and he seemed to be taking more and more of Harry's soul, becoming more and more imposing as he solidified and Harry weakened. Harry wondered vaguely if Snape would really kill him, but he couldn't help but respond to that last remark.

"Oh come on, because of that speech they know you're a hero. Besides, I was only sorted into Gryffindor because I begged the damn hat, so what makes you think I'd have all the qualities, or whatever?"

Surprise at that second remark seemed to bring Snape out of his senseless rage enough to curb his soul-devouring tendencies. He glared down at Harry who was already pretty bad off and sweating, collapsed on the floor. "I highly doubt one little speech is going to so drastically change anything. I am no one's hero, and I'd kindly appreciate it if you don't go around spreading stories about me," he said in his most dangerous tone, one which Harry had been hearing alot lately.

"It just so happens, that people are pushing to get you the Order of Merlin because of that speech. Besides, you're my hero, whether you like it or not." Harry found such compliments much easier to give when they were being used in an argument and show of defiance against the man. He couldn't have told him "thank you" without doing it through the memory with his mom's spirit, but now it seemed easy, because in his compliment he was able to contradict the sneering remarks of the angry man before him.

Snape looked rather taken-aback by the unexpected compliment Harry had used as an argument. He looked at the boy in contemplation, his anger cooling a bit, and asked, "So, what house were you intended for?"

"Slytherin."

--

- To be continued -


	4. Ch 4 The Auror Test

Thanks all for the reviews

To furia airuf who asked, and anyone else who wonders, the other half of Snape's soul has already passed on. A horcrux gives you an anchor in the world of the living, but the only part of your soul that has to stay there is the part in the horcrux. The rest of the soul chooses where to go based on one's deepest desire of the heart. Voldemort wanted to live and rule, so his soul stayed and possessed people and etc. Snape wanted to be with Lily, who was dead, so the other half of his soul is in the afterworld, waiting patiently for this half to catch up with it. He didn't actually want to die and be miserable watching her spending all her time with James, but the deep desires of his heart were still to be near her, so he ended up there.

**Chapter 4 - The Auror Test**

The time had finally come. Harry sat at the little kitchen table eating the toast and eggs the house elves had left for him, when a large old owl that was missing most of it's feathers and looked more like a bat flew in from one of the high windows and dropped a package on his lap. He opened it to find that it was a letter from the Ministry of Magic, along with what appeared to be a glass disk of some sort.

The letter explained that due to the required secrecy, the place for the test was to remain completely unknown to all involved, and would never be in the same place twice. If Harry still wanted to participate, (of course he did) he was to meet them at the specified place at 10 sharp the next morning. The letter clearly stated that if he was late, he would be too late.

He turned the letter over looking for an address or some form of direction, but there was nothing. He picked up the disk and looked at it, turning it this way and that and holding it up to the light. He tapped it several different ways with his wand, and tried even asking it politely to show him the way, but if it could hear him, which frankly wasn't likely, it didn't give any indication that it had. He sighed and slumped down at the table, resting his head on his forearms and staring blankly at the object before him.

"Tch tch tch, giving up already? I would have thought you'd have at least a few hundred more things to try before reaching this point, but what can be expected? Considering how abysmal your grades always were, I imagine you weren't much of a dedicated thinker."

Unable to think of anything particular to defend himself with, Harry just glanced up at him from his place at the table and mumbled, "Well, then are you gonna help me out?"

"Of all the impudence! I would watch my tone if I were you, Potter, there are far worse punishments that I can currently inflilct than detentions and taking house points."

"Are you threatening me, _Professor_?"

"I am not, nor would I ever like to again be your professor. ...but yes, I am threatening you."

Harry was stressed out about the test and what it might entail, completely sure his missed 7th year would cause him to utterly fail at whatever he was asked to do. He was stressed about not knowing how to get there, and he was emotionally drained from having to live with his most hated ex-professor while keeping the peace as best he could. He was tired. Too tired to fight. Harry pressed two fingers to the vine on his arm and watched Snape hiss a curse as he was sucked into the photo. It reminded him of a TV genie being sucked back into his lamp.

Oh well. He had to stay behind anyway.

Harry tried to think back to other objects he could not activate or open in the past. He remembered the golden snitch, but that had a memory of the skin tissue in his mouth, so that was different. Not having any better ideas, however, he tried licking the thing. Nothing happened. Thinking some more, he remembered a golden egg that could only be opened under water. he tried running the tap over it, but again, no result. Then he thought back even further, and considered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry highly doubted that the Ministry of Magic would make a test that required you to speak snake, and Harry didn't even have that ability any more since he was no longer Voldemort's horcrux, but it was worth a shot. He was getting desperate. Harry stared at the glass and hissed through his teeth. He wasn't saying actual words, but he thought it would be enough. Nothing happened, but that wasn't surprising.

Harry spent most of the day trying to think of some brilliant method of activating this ... whatever it was. Finally, without any more ideas he pushed it aside for the moment, but when he set his hand on it to push it away, his palm glowed red where it hit the glass. Harry quickly pulled his hand away and a hologram of a short Ministry official popped out of the glass where his hand had been. He looked down at his hand and saw that it had stopped glowing when he pulled it away, but noticed also that his flowering vine tattoo had returned. It was not soon enough for Snape to be able to come back out after being banished, so he could only presume with some alarm that this hologram was being powered by his soul, or in some other way using his soul.

"Congratulations," the small hologram was saying, "you have submitted your entry, the test has begun. You have from now until 10 AM tomorrow to get to the location of your test. This is the first test, so no shortcuts. You may travel by any means necessary, but do not skip any destination you are asked to go to. By placing your hand on the disk you submitted to having the trace put on you for the next 48 hours, so we will know if you try anything. Good luck."

With that, the little wizard popped back into the disk. Harry watched, amazed, as the disk shrunk and grew pointed on one end. Straps came out of the bottom of the disk and a short beam of light glowed faintly out of the pointed end of the thing, which now resembled some sort of giant crystal pretending to be a wristwatch. He watched, amused, as numbers suddenly appeared on the back of the thing, seemingly in response to his thought. He knew what to do now. he strapped the little compass on the front of his broomstick, which he'd managed to accio to him from his apartment. He hoped no one had seen the thing flying to Hogwarts.

He was going to head out straightaway, not knowing how long it would take to get there, wherever there was, and preferring to fly by night (which it was already quickly becoming), under cover of darkness. He glanced around one more time to make sure he hadn't left anything he might need, and realized with a start that he had Snape in his pocket. He took out the scrap of photo and placed it in the sugar jar. He didn't want the house elves to think it was a piece of trash when they tried to clean up, and figured it would be pretty safe in there.

Harry looked around one more time, wondering if there was anything else he might need that they'd expect him to have brought. He packed a roll of parchment and a couple of quills in case they wanted him to take notes. He wondered nervously if he would need any muggle money. He decided not to worry about that, as his not having any made that decision easy. Without intending to, he kept looking back at the sugar jar. He really wanted to bring the scrap of photo with him for reassurance, but knew he couldn't, so without another chance to doubt what he'd packed, he quickly turned and took off, flying straight out one of the high windows in their room.

The light pointed off in a direction he thought was North, cutting over a corner of the forbidden forest. He followed it for what felt like many hours, before he suddenly felt presences behind him. He was stiff from sitting on his broom for so long in the cold night winds, but managed to turn his head back behind him somehow, and saw what appeared to be 2 death eaters following him through the clouds, wands raised.

_Oh, great_, he thought. Didn't they all know it was over? Or did they entertain hopes that one amongst them could repeat the terror that was Lord Voldemort? Harry wondered if this was part of the test, and out-flying them would be considered skipping out. He wished he'd brought a second opinion with him. He didn't really know how these magical tests worked, and for once there was no one to explain it to him. Ever since Harry had entered the magical world, there were friends and mentors around him always who could explain any aspect of the magical community to him that he so desired to learn. He vaguely wished he could have brought Snape. The man would never be caught dead telling Harry he had done something correctly, but he got a distinctly annoyed look on his face and threw fewer insults at Harry when he was doing something right.

Harry was still trying to decide whether he should try to outrun them or turn and fight them, when suddenly they veered off to the left and right, allowing a third figure to rise up between them. This one had no mask and needed no introduction. Voldemort.

"How the blazing hell did he get here?" Harry wondered aloud, thinking likely the answer was that the blazing hell couldn't stand the heat and spit him back out. If it was Voldemort he was facing, there wasn't really any question about whether to try to outrun him. Voldemort was an evil that needed to be (and Harry though _had _been) taken out, and it had to be Harry who did it. He steeled his nerves and turned to face his arch nemesis. The spectre let out it's high cold laugh, and pointed it's wand at Harry.

This was so unlike Voldemort that Harry was momentarily stunned by the idea that he would reappear and try to kill Harry without any speech about how Harry had ruined his life, or gloating about how he had managed to escape death and was so much more powerful than Harry was... Somehow, Voldemort's silence gave Harry an instinctive desire to cast a spell he had been once taught long ago, but had never gotten the chance to try.

"Riddikulus!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the center figure. Voldemort was suddenly wearing a pink bikini, and seemed to have forgotten how to fly. He flapped his arms ridiculously as Harry laughed and he fell out of sight. Harry heard a popping sound as his laughter caught up with it and the boggart was no more.

Harry wondered vaguely why boggarts would turn into two death eaters and Voldemort, thinking of all the things to be afraid of, those were very far down on his list. He shrugged that off and aimed for the left death eater. This one did not transform when he cast his spell at it, and he decided these were not boggarts. He tried a stunning spell. No effect. They weren't people, either, apparently. Harry flew backwards for a time, contemplating them, as they followed him, seemingly reluctant to cast any attack spells on him.

They were both oddly hunched, and seemed drunk, swerving sometimes violently as they flew after him. Harry realized then that their movements were very familiar to him. A smile broke on his face and he couldn't help but laugh at the simplicity of it all. They were bewitched bludgers, wearing capes, and somehow attached to broomsticks.

Harry sent the first damage-dealing spell at them that came to mind. "Sectumsempra!" he shouted at them, and the bludgers were ripped to shreds and fell from the sky.

"Why did I think of _that_ spell first, of all the spells it could have been?" Harry wondered to himself. Before he had much chance to think on it, a familiar cold engulfed him and there was a rushing sound in his ears. He saw 50 dementors swarming around him from all angles, and above and below him as well. Hermione was right, so far this was pretty easy. "Expecto Patronum!" the stag shot from Harry's wand and he noticed his arm glowing and flowering once again. He realized then that the reason the image of his soul on his arm didn't have anything relating to his dad in it was because so much of his dad had been put into his patronus, which apparently was soul-powered. Harry wondered just how many things in the magical world were soul-powered. He was starting to feel annoyed, like his soul was some kind of free buffet.

After the dementors, he didn't run into any more trouble, and presently he found the compass had begun to point downwards. He flew down to find that it had led him straight to the Ministry of Magic. _Some hidden location,_ he thought, rolling his eyes. It was already 7 AM as Harry touched down beside the guest entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Luckily, though it was light out, there was a thick fog covering as far as the eye could see (which wasn't very far), so he was free from unwanted onlookers.

A red jet of light shot out from somewhere behind him, aimed at his back. Harry ducked into a summersault just in time and cast a return stunning spell upside down midway through his summersault. It hit a dumpster and loads of garbage and filth flew up at the impact. A wizard with messy blond hair and a face covered in scars stepped out from behind the dumpster, shaking garbage off his clothes and laughing. He looked like he was in his early 30's and reminded Harry distinctly of a younger, more healthy looking Remus Lupin.

"Nice job! That was the most impressive thing I've seen yet on these tests, the way you squared off with Voldemort. And what was that spell you cast on those bludgers? That was brutal, but effective." He didn't wait for an answer. He locked eyes with Harry and smiled, saying, "'Name's Angel. Angel Burton, but some people call me Scratchy," he said with an indifferent shrug, shaking Harry's hand.

"Well, come on then. You got here early, so you can start the written test early. It's easier to stagger them anyway, so there's fewer of us having to keep our eyes on everyone at once." He led Harry into the Ministry, and they took an elevator to one of the middle levels. It stopped and he was ushered into a small room two doors down the hall on the right. It looked just like an unused classroom. There were many desks, all piled against the walls, with one desk set out in the middle of the room with a test waiting on it.

"Good luck!" said Angel, giving Harry a little slap on the back and leaving the room. Harry thought it odd that he would make all that fuss about watching for cheaters and then leave him alone in the room, but he soon found out why. There was a glowing ... thing, he supposed it was a platypus or something... at any rate, he was apparently being watched by a patronus. Not that Harry was going to cheat anyway, he had left his books at home to stop himself from even finding that thought tempting.

Sitting down to take the written test, his heart sank. This would be considerably more difficult than the physical test, which had seemed almost built with him in mind. Three hours later he turned in his test, or what he had finished of it, to the platypus-thing. It had been hard. There were several questions he had had to leave blank. Things that he probably would have known if he'd grown up in a wizarding family, he thought bitterly.

Angel came back in the room with two other wizards in tow. One was a portly wizard who was missing a leg, whose name turned out to be Archibald, a fellow auror. The other was another new recruit, by the name of Jessica, who looked like she had barely made it through the physical test. She probably had just had her first encounter with "Voldemort", Harry thought.

Angel nodded to Archibald who took Jessica further into the classroom, and motioned Harry to follow him out.

"Just one more test, Harry," he said, leading Harry down to the lower level where the court rooms were. "We need you to submit to an officially documented and witnessed intentions test."

"Intentions test?" Harry asked, wondering.

"Yes. It won't hurt, and you don't have to do anything. It is the easiest of the tests. For most people." He gave Harry an unreadable look and added "It may be more difficult for you."

Harry was about to protest but just at that moment they arrived at the court room where there was a strict-looking witch with wand ready standing in front of an empty chair. A wizard with a long scroll was busily scratching onto it at a small table beside her. She motioned Harry to take a seat, and Angel stood to the side to watch.

As soon as Harry sat down, the witch in front of him shouted "Legilimens!"

Had she been more subtle about it, and used the silent casting that he was sure Snape so often employed, he may not have gotten his defenses up in time. In fact, if she'd had any finesse, she may have gotten a peek in his mind without him even knowing she'd been there, as Dumbledore always seemed able to do. But this was a thundering intrusion. Harry jolted back with such force at the surprise that his chair fell backwards, and he put his arms up in front of his face as if to ward off the attack. He mentally threw up an imaginary brick barrier and turned on an imaginary hose to full blast, picturing his mind filling loudly with black ink.

The witch pulled him up by the front of his robes, looking overly angry. "What are you hiding, boy?"

Harry shrank back from this unknown witch who clutched his robes and quickly thought up a half-truth. "There are horrors in my memories," he mumbled, "in a very large number of them. If I am made to relive them, I may go mad. I will agree to a veritaserum test, if you'd like."

That did it. Veritaserum was, of course, illegal, but the Ministry being the makers of the law naturally thought themselves above it. This woman reminded Harry of a weird mix between Professor McGonagall and Umbridge. She agreed, and he soon found himself answering all kinds of questions about his intentions, and how he felt when he fought with Voldemort, how he felt about the attention people always gave him, and what he hoped for his future. They were kindly careful to avoid asking him questions they thought would bring up "old ghosts" as the saying goes. He knew they would never ask, "So, have you seen any photographs of your dead mum turned into horcruxes of dead teachers lately?" so he would be safe.

It all went rather well, but the veritaserum they used seemed to have a soporific affect on him, and the next thing Harry knew, he was being prodded awake by the auror called Archibald. He sat up a bit too quickly, and almost fell back down, dazed as his head momentarily spun. Judging by the light out the window, it seemed to be dawn. He slept the whole day and night at the Ministry...

Archibald was saying something to him, and he focused hard until he could hear what the man was saying. His head was still swimming a bit. "...never saw a reaction like that to our organic veritaserum mix," he was shaking his head, "but you did it, Harry, good job. Welcome to the Ministry." He was shaking Harry's hand, and then he was pulling him up.

The next thing Harry knew he was sitting in a diner with Archibald and Angel and a witch named Nel, having lunch and listening to their stories of when they were first inducted into the Ministry as new aurors.

Harry zoned out, staring at his chips and wondering how he would do his auror duties without these people ever finding out about Snape. He heard his name a few times, though, and came back to the conversation.

"What do you think they'll send him on first?" asked Nel. She was a dark-haired witch who looked like she could have been younger than Harry, but when he mentioned this she just laughed. "I have been an auror for 15 years already. I'm 1/4 veela. I age rather more gracefully because of it."

Harry just stared. He'd had no idea. Aren't you supposed to be madly attracted to veela? He assumed 1/4 must just not be enough. She looked nice, but her hair seemed disturbingly silky and fluffy, and didn't hang in strings as it should...

"I'm going to ask them to give him the vampire job. They might not, since he's new, but after what he did to Voldemort-" Harry suddenly realized each one of these people had used Voldemort's name repeatedly since he met them yesterday, "and what he did during that physical test, well, I think he might have a shot at it. " Angel was saying. "Besides, he said with a knowing twinkle in his eye, I think it might do Harry a bit of good to get bitten. Best man for the job."

The others just shrugged, not knowing what he was talking about. It seemed that they were used to this one having inner jokes with himself and knowing odd things that no one else knew.

They finished up their lunch and headed out. Harry was told he could go and they would contact him by owl with his first assignment. He wouldn't be made to show up and sit in an office every day like many ministry positions, he was glad of that. He said his goodbyes, hopped on his broom, draped his invisibility cloak over himself, and set off. It didn't cover him well with his broom, but would be good enough.

--

- To be continued -

Wow, I'm getting hits. Awesome. Thanks for the reviews!! less-than-three you all!


	5. Ch 5 First Mission

**Chapter 5 - First Mission**

When Harry returned home to the Slytherin dungeons, exhausted from his trip, he immediately plopped down onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table and put his head down on the wood surface in front of him, stifling a yawn. He couldn't stay there for long, though, as he recognized the sounds of fuming beside him. He looked up to see a heavily scowling Professor Snape standing there with his arms crossed, covered from head to foot in fine grained sugar. Harry burst out laughing, clutching at his sides, completely forgetting how tired he was. Tears of mirth were streaming down his face and as he gasped to catch his breath he couldn't help but comment between giggles. "Aww, professor, you look so sweet!" He gave Snape a welcoming hug and licked some of the sugar off his cheek in greeting. Only after seeing Snape's expression quickly shift to one of shock did he realize what he'd done. Harry turned a bit red but shrugged it off. It's what he would have done if it had been Ron or Hermione. If he was getting used to Snape being around and treating him like he'd treat one of his friends, it was good right?

That night Snape dreamed of revenge, and when he woke he found himself wondering whether or not his current form could ingest whipped cream.

About a week passed with Harry spending his days lounging around at Hogwarts, happy to finally be able to relax in the only place he ever called home without fear of imminent death by Voldemort.

It did feel really weird to be unable to consult Dumbledore about their situation. His painting was a good likeness and knew a lot of things but it wasn't the same. There weren't any lemon drops. Harry was starting to realize, though, that he had a walking encyclopedia living with him the rough equivalent to what Hermione might be after about 20 more years of studying.

They were getting along fairly well too. Granted it was mostly because they didn't talk to each other more than necessary, but they were obviously both trying their hardest to hold their tongues when anything that practically required a comeback was said. In the evenings Harry would even sit down in a transfigured recliner and let Snape use more of his energy for a while so he could brew a potion or research and experiment with whatever thing he'd been reading about that day.

At the end of the week a hawk, of all things, flew into their high window and deposited a paper-wrapped disk on Harry's lap. The hawk tapped it with his beak as if to make sure Harry understood to open it right away, and then flew off with a powerful flap of it's large wings. It was the same as the previous disk he'd gotten from the Ministry, and it worked in the same way, to his relief.

The same miniature hologram-type apparition popped out of the disk and told him that he had, in fact, been given the vampire case. There were several small unplotted islands near Turkey, it said, and these islands were the home to a group of vampires that lived more or less outside Ministry supervision. They had their own supply of muggles they kept on one of the islands, and somehow the muggles remained blissfully ignorant to the cause of the sore spots on their necks and the disappearances of many of their children. This was not the Ministry's business, since it was so contained and harmonious, said the little wizard, but lately there have been suspicious movements to the mainlands by these vampires and dealings with certain shady characters that the Ministry had been keeping tabs on. It would be Harry's job to go there and find out what was going on, and to stop it if necessary.

Harry was horrified to hear that the Ministry was doing nothing about the disappearances. Beside him, Snape snorted in a way that clearly stated that he thought Harry was ridiculous. Harry glared up at him and he rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Potter, am I to understand it is okay for werewolves to run loose at schools full of children but vampires can't own a farm? You are only upset about it because you don't personally know any of them."

"Hey now, that's not fair. Remus wasn't harming anyone and anyway he had th-"

"I believe you must be forgetting the circumstances that led up to his being fired in the first place. It was most certainly fair, as you put it, as he'd had his mind made up to have you for dinner."

"Yeah, but I wasn't an innocent bystander or anything."

"So you finally admit to being an insufferable troublemaker? It's about time."

"No, I just follow it around when I see it, I don't create any of the trouble."

"Gryffindor brat."

"Thanks."

They did their preparations for their trip in silence. Harry'd been assigned the mission alone without a team as backup so he didn't see any reason to make Snape stay home. They hadn't been given exact coordinates to the islands but they knew the look of the formation from a map the hologram had shown them. It seemed like Harry was going to be getting a lot of broom-time in. It would be due for it's next maintenance checkup soon, but it would be okay for this trip at least.

Harry got on his broom and held open the charmed bag around his neck, looking at Snape expectantly, thinking that he'd go back into his picture in the bag. Snape scowled disdainfully at the bag and climbed on the back of the broom. Harry was momentarily surprised but shrugged it off and took off, flying right out one of the high windows in the kitchen. He circled the astronomy tower a few times as he gained height, then headed off to the East, flying over the lake and a corner of the forbidden forest.

Under cover of darkness he flew on and on and he couldn't help but feel a sense of deja vu. Every once in a while he'd start to drift off-course as he started to fall asleep, but then Snape would poke him hard in the ribs and he'd wake right up. The last time this happened, he swore he heard a growl accompanying the rather brutal elbowing in his back.

"Merlin, Potter, you're hopeless. Are you trying to end your line early?"

"I can't help it; I'm numb from cold and it's easy to lose track of what you're doing when you can't feel it."

"You ought to earn a Darwin award, but seeing as my existence is dependent on your survival, I suppose I will have to see to it that you don't." He leaned in close and reached his arms around Harry to take control of the broom, simultaneously giving Harry a break and keeping him warm.

Harry thought it was a wonder that a semi-solid horcrux could have a body temperature, but he leaned into the warmth, then flinched rather violently when he realized he had. Severus gave an amused snort.

They continued like that until dawn. The sun rose in front of them over a sparkling orange sea. The scene was perfect. The light also allowed them to survey their surroundings infinitely better than they'd been able to do in the darkness of night. They scanned the sea that stretched out before them and found that the islands they'd been looking for were to their left and almost straight down from their current position.

At their current height the winds were quite strong, but as they got lower, the air became slightly more calm, and the wind was saturated with salt, which coated Harry's glasses in a salty film.

They landed in a clearing on the Northwestern side of the largest island. It turned out to be a schoolyard, though school must not start for a couple hours at least because there wasn't a soul to be seen in the whole place.

They left the school and walked a ways down a dirt lane until they reached the first house they saw. Reminding himself that these were muggles, Harry tried to look nonchalant about carrying a fancy-looking broom around and hoped that no one would ask him to sweep anything with it.

Harry hopped the short front gate, and Snape just walked right through it, as they approached the little house. When they got to the front door they found that it wasn't quite closed, and could be pushed to swing open on squeaky hinges. Harry shivered and looked around at the yard they had just walked through. It was overrun with weeds and the clothes line was broken and frayed. It looked like the place had been neglected for quite awhile. With his hand on his wand which was poking slightly out of his opposite sleeve, Harry entered the house, with Snape following just behind. The place was most certainly abandoned. The feeling of neglect was present even more so on the inside than it had been in the yard. A stack of dishes in the sink all had rings around them, as if they'd been soaking in water that has since dried up. There was a fairly thick layer of dust all over the tables and even the floor. There was also a smear of something that looked suspiciously like blood on the wall next to the stairs. They cautiously explored the whole house, including the one bedroom and bathroom that could be found upstairs, but there were no other blood marks or signs of life of any kind.

Sighing, Harry lead the way back to the dirt road they'd been traveling on after leaving the school, and continued on that thinking there was bound to be another house somewhere along the line. Snape kept quiet, but cataloged his findings in his head. The blood on the wall disturbed him. No vampire was that sloppy. They didn't just waste blood. Blood on the walls for a vampire is similar to the mess found after a human food fight. It just wasn't normal.

When they reached the second house about a kilometer down the road, they found that it also was empty, though it didn't have the look of having been abandoned for months, and it also had blood on the walls, but also on the floor, in a splattery pattern that made it look like someone had been injured and then thrashed around a lot.

They didn't come to a third house until they'd put another 3 or so kilometers behind them. This house was larger and nicer, but still had that slightly foreboding feeling to it. They went in and sure enough the place was empty. Snape noticed a syringe casually lying on the table half-under a magazine and narrowed his eyes at it, mentally filing it away for later analysis.

Harry was turning around to leave, sighing in frustration, when suddenly Snape tensed beside him and shouted, "Harry look out!"

Harry was so shocked to hear Snape use his first name that he just stood there dumbly for a moment, though he really wouldn't have had time to do anything anyway, as there was a flash of movement and a very feral vampire was upon him. The vampire's breath stank of something rancid and the vampire himself looked more like a werewolf than a vampire. He was dirty and his clothes hung off him in shreds and he was all growls and snarls. Before Harry could really process any of this, though, the vampire had Harry by the hair and was tilting his head forcefully and sinking sharp fangs into his throat.

--

- To be continued -  
A/N: So obviously chapter 5 is no longer the last chapter. There will be ... one or 2 more I think. Sorry it's coming so slowly but I can't really write when I have other peoples' fics swirling around in my head. I've recently been frustrated with the ones I've found, so it's coming a bit easier now. Thanks for having patience with me.


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